Popping a Wheelie
by jackal1973
Summary: A place to collect shorts, scenes, and snippets featuring Jax and Tara.
1. Owning Hers

It hadn't taken Tara long after Jax had left her alone and supposedly jilted at the hospital for her big brain to figure out just what he'd likely be doing. It was the _who_ that really hurt but she'd deal with that bitter slice of painful realization later, when her lover turned temporary foe was done ferreting out and using her weakest vulnerabilities as weapons of retribution against her in the middle of his own damn clubhouse.

It fucking hurt like the son of a bitch Jax currently was but she couldn't afford to let any of that show right now or it would finally break her just like the jackass intentionally crushing her heart right now obviously wanted. Instead, Tara silently watched and waited as the crow inked over her backbone stood poised to swoop in for a stealth attack that would once again claim what had always belonged to her.

The golden pair tangled in an all too carnal display of sloppy, almost drunken, oral delight had yet to realize the awkward lull that had descended on the live audience to their x-rated tryst. Spurts of cum were surely about to join the spit, sweat, and girth of Jax's cock inside the porn queen's mouth when Juice regretfully offered from beside her, "You shouldn't have to see this, Doc. Let me take you home."

His words were purposefully quiet but her nickname resounded within one biker's slightly inebriated head as if his Puerto Rican brother had loudly hurtled it into their cinderblock confines like a battle cry of old and, instantly, guilt stricken blue met her steely gaze down the length of the bar. For a split second, Jax had started to automatically push the double penetration diva away before he quickly regained his brutal resolve and shoved the fake blonde's head even further down on his shaft until the woman almost choked and her man intentionally groaned his pleasure.

_That fucker._

"Seems like you're almost done," Tara all too evenly volleyed back in a skirmish she had no intention of ever losing. "I'll just wait here until you finish."

"Tara," her name inescapably slipped past Jax's lips as a guttural exclamation; a ragged mix between a harsh warning for her to leave and an uncertain plea of something else entirely but it finally alerted the pitiful gash on her knees before him that the triple rated prima donna was no longer the female holding the biker's rapt attention no matter how hard the bitch sucked.

"I've seen you with other women before Jax, this isn't anything I'm unaware of, Kohn made certain of it," Tara crossed her arms and nonchalantly added without flinching away for even a millisecond. "Fuck them all if you need to; it's not going to change what we are to each other."

Tara could almost feel his manhood shrivel within her own mouth along with his tattered pride as Jax registered her full meaning. Roughly, he pulled away from the trick and told his latest darlin' to go wait in his room. Pathetically, like the well-trained whore Ima had become, she obediently sauntered off toward the back after shooting a victorious he's mine smirk in Tara's direction.

Mentally, Tara scoffed along with a few other disbelieving crow eaters who were a little more vocal in their skepticism now that she had finally sounded firm in her position as Jax Teller's Old Lady. That pussy must be as stupid as Ima was easy if the porn vixen really thought her overly exploited shit would distract Jax for more than a tawdry romp or two. Whatever the bottle blonde did with him wouldn't mean a damn thing to Jax past his purely physical release because this wasn't about the porn bitch at all.

It was about them; it always would be.

Even more so now that Jax wouldn't be able to brush her off so easily and send her back to the safer life he thought Tara should be living without him after all that had happened recently. Unashamedly, she squared her shoulders for the next part of their confrontation as Jax haphazardly hitched his loose jeans back over his hips. There was nothing for _her_ to be embarrassed about tonight, she wasn't the one indiscriminately fucking in front of everyone, demeaning what they were to each other, in an effort to punish him or drive him away.

Finally, once he was buckled up again, Jax advanced on her. His low voice was hard, almost like stone, as he ground out, "I don't want you here, Tara."

"Yeah, I got that," she coolly rejoined through a distasteful curl of her lips without giving a step of her higher ground in front of the still lingering crowd, "but the prince doesn't always get his way."

Purposefully, she pulled the nondescript envelope of cash from her bag and slammed it down between the discarded beer bottles and empty shot glasses littering the bar top in front of him. Nodding at it, she explained, "That's the rest of the money from the clinic."

"The guy was supposed to call me to pick it up later, why'd he bring it to you," Jax growled through his furiously clenched jaw. His angry expression and aggressive posture broadcasted his displeasure that she was still somehow entangled in the Son's illegal activities with high def clarity.

"My colleague wanted to make sure I knew that one of their patients had been asking questions about me after we left," she leveled without any qualms.

"Babe, this is exactly what I was talking about. You shouldn't be involved in this shit," Jax ran a frustrated hand over his bearded scruff before he instinctively demanded. "Who was asking questions about you? What did they want to know?"

"It doesn't matter," she succinctly replied in a rapid dismissal of his query.

"The fuck it doesn't," Jax contradicted just as swiftly since all signs of his earlier buzz were now completely gone. "This could mean your career if they bring charges."

"Isn't that my business _now_," Tara slowly reminded him since Jax obviously had already forgotten his bogus little spiel about him being done with her earlier.

"Tara, this isn't a game," he sharply warned as his brothers nodded their grunting agreement from behind her like they were a gruff version of a barber shop quartet at his assessment.

"I know that," she calmly refuted in the face of his raging concern, "but it's also not your worry."

"That's bullshit," Jax uttered with a feral undertone. "Everything about you is my business."

Tara completely ignored his claim- just stoically looked at him for a lingering moment more- before she finally turned to the trio of brothers gathered behind her. Almost uncertainly, she softly requested, "Will one of you call me from Ireland when you find Abel to let me know that he's okay?"

Conspicuous looks shot back and forth between Jax, Tig, Juice, and Bobby before the latter nodded a hesitant response, "Sure, Doc, we'll make sure you get news when we've got Abel back."

"Thanks," Tara gratefully murmured as she walked past them with her head still held high while she exited the clubhouse.

"Tara," Jax's raised voice now followed behind her like her very own talking shadow. "Tara, where the fuck do you think you're going?"

She could have told him that it had probably been Darby who'd caused the raid on the clubhouse earlier. Or, that she was headed to his house where she truly belonged to wait for him to bring Abel home. And, maybe, she should have but, then again, if Tara had done any of _that_ then it wouldn't be readily apparent to everyone in the clubhouse right now that she simply owned Jax - heart and soul- as he trailed after her without thought to anything else he was leaving behind.

Yet, it was only fair since Jax had indelibly marked her as his long before her pale skin had ever born even the first hint of his crow.

She was still hurt by his words and his careless actions over the last few weeks but, eventually, all of that could still be worked through because as she'd painfully learned since their burgeoning little family had been capriciously ripped apart when Abel had been taken by the Irish that nothing was really a deal breaker to Tara anymore. As she peeled out of the Teller-Morrow lot into the cloying darkness with Jax following so closely behind- so hot on her heels for a whole slew of answers he felt were rightfully his- Tara decided that she just might have to give him one that he certainly wasn't expecting tonight as well.

After all, Abel should know that he was going to be a big brother and Jax needed to understand that neither of them would ever really be done with the other. The sooner they both fully comprehended that implacable truth the better because she was sick and tired of him trying to fuck up what neither of them would ever truly be able to walk away from now. The unshakable bond of love that had been conceived when they were mere teens was now tangibly growing inside her and nobody, not even her badass biker, was going to keep her from owning her place at Jax's side ever again.


	2. Something About

**It's been so long that my musings are really rusty but I felt like popping something off for Jax and Tara today. Happy Valentine's Day.**

* * *

_Mesmerized._

_Riveted._

_Enthralled_.

That's _exactly_ what Jax was as he sat there on Opie's dropped tailgate feeling like an utter tool as he valiantly tried not to actually drool or lick his fucking lips like some inept pussy while Tara Knowles gracefully swayed along with the crisp fall breeze that floated through the thick night like an enchanting rhythm of enticement. The melodious swerve of her curves in perfect harmony with the inky wind that had wrapped around him with its teasing embrace left Jax practically hypnotized with need for her.

Everything about the girl's luscious form was alert with a bittersweet note of anticipation of the dubious activity that the brunette had planned for their evening; even her pertly chilled nipples which he'd been desperately failing to ignore for the last few minutes but the hard nubs were perfect little points, firm beacons of his equally unyielding desire, that fervently demanded his undivided attention. And even though every inch of Tara _'Suddenly Too Damned Fuckable'_ Knowles was made exactly right for him in every possible way, shape, and sinful form; there was just something about his object of near obsession tonight, something...

so confusing...

so baffling...

so damned elusive...

That it clearly made Jax even more of a mangled wreck of masculine need around her than usual as their small group hung out on his best friend's battered truck in the wide open field that lay fallow around them with the coming change of seasons. His ass was nearly numb from sitting on the cold metal for so long but he didn't dare move to ease his rising discomfort because just like too much of the rest of him, Jax's hands were entirely too eager to nudge closer towards the tantalizing sweetness that Tara had ripened into during her time away from Charming. His unruly mitts practically itched with a burning need to flex the digits so harshly clamped around the open beer bottle in his intentionally too tight grip. Still, he couldn't chance relaxing even a solitary knuckle or he'd surely reach out and try to put a claiming hand, hell, he'd even settle for a single greedy fingertip landing on any part of the unaware beauty standing before him right about now.

Not that Tara Knowles had noticed that she had him covertly dancing to the sweet tune of her newly rounded hips since the once boyishly familiar brunette had finally gotten back from her extended stint at sports camp over summer break. That place was supposed to cover all the ins and outs of basketball from basics to advanced skills to improve her game and she'd surely gotten her money's worth in more than one way it seemed. Because Tara had certainly learned some fundamentals all right but these had absolutely nothing to do with jump shots or dribbling unless you counted her elemental ability to make his dick bounce or pile driver hard at whim. As if on cue, his mouth suddenly got drier than the Mojave fucking desert all over again just remembering his cock's instantaneous reaction to the captivating lilt of Tara's unhurried gate as she'd emerged from the well-used shortcut between her house and Op's ramshackle backyard for the first day of their junior year just a few weeks prior.

There'd just been _something_ about the newly acquired feminine grace of her pale limbs moving under that light slip of a red dress as it had slowly flowed over the unexpected reveal of her generous curves that had surely become heavenly perfection to his keenly roving and suddenly unwavering eye. The startling vision Tara had made at her impromptu homecoming that day had simultaneously wet Jax's proverbial teenaged whistle all over again and left him bone dry, well, at least, with an instantly stiffening bone of another sort before he could squelch his body's primal reaction to her.

Just like now.

_Fuck._

Why the hell did she have to be wearing that damn flimsy nuisance that had plagued his memories far too often over the past few weeks due to its all too conspicuous absence?

The thing was like waving a matador's cape in front of a raging, all too horny, bull even though her outfit's vintage cut wasn't really meant to be sexy. Theoretically, Jax knew that, really, he did but _damn_ Tara had made his tongue suddenly want to curl up inside warm, moist, and all too intimate places to quench his ravenous thirst for carnal knowledge about her all over again whenever he saw her in it.

It wouldn't be a refresher course though because Jax's mouth had, unfortunately, never been on any part of that particular female anatomy much to his mounting chagrin. He'd had the chance, _once_, right before she'd gone away for the summer but he'd stupidly thrown his shot away because of uncharacteristically good intentions.

While Tara had been gone, he'd nobly drowned out his mental regrets by imbibing in a prideful brew of reasons that mixed her youth, innocence, and how valuable their 'just friends' status truly was since she was the only female he legitimately cared about besides his mother. He'd stirred the mental concoction of justifications around in his head until it became a heady cocktail that left him standing even more cocksure on the higher ground of righteous sacrifice after the surprising intimacy of their almost tongue on tongue discussion before she'd left.

But, right now, as her bare shoulders shimmered under the moonlight's gentle kiss, Jax couldn't fully remember exactly why he'd thought that was the right and honorable decision at the time. Certainly not now that he knew she'd been unfairly hiding those lush feminine attributes from him under her former tomboy fashions during their one, measly, stilted, little non_fucking_encounter.

And, long, grueling months of unslaked want later; he still couldn't.

Especially when Tara was wearing that damned red menace again just to taunt him; to provoke a response as she further proved his callous lie wrong just in case he'd somehow missed how truly desired and sought after she'd instantly become by the male population at Charming High upon her return. It was like Tara was now every guy's fantasy pin-up girl as she sauntered down the school's hallways and Jax surely wasn't the only hormonally charged asshole not so covertly imagining her in nothing but one of Victoria's itty bitty lacy secrets when she strolled by their lockers like they were merely lining her own personal runway.

The legacy prospect somehow knew that the reality of the gracefully skimming style she was wearing was actually a demure classic meant for warm weather climates; that the hemline of her skirt even hit Tara's leanly muscled calves at a considerably modest length. And, he was pretty damn sure that her Mama had once attended mass in that very same sundress a decade or so ago so it surely wasn't intended to elicit such a carnal response from him but that was all long before the fabric had become too well-worn for Jax to easily call the garment innocent or proper anymore. The racy crimson fibers were broken down enough through so many repeated washings and the passage of time that the cloth felt infinitely soft and all too temptingly smooth under the calloused rasp of his fingertips.

At least, that's what Jax's lecherously muddled brain had imagined when he'd first spied her in that God forsaken dress, before another of Tara's poised steps had revealed the materials truest merit, when her gloriously backlit silhouette had steam rolled a long, hot, needy wave of lust over every rangy inch of his body like a silent siren's unyielding call. Her easy motion had left his mind flat, completely devoid of anything coherent, beyond the near feral urge to be flush between the slender female gap created by the subtle movements of her shapely thighs teasingly hidden behind the all too revealing curtain of her skirt.

Desperately, he'd wanted to be making a long, hard, intimate acquaintance with her newfound womanly curves. Becoming one with the natural bends of her form that clearly weren't adequately shielded by the almost sheer cloth as the early morning sun shot right through it while she walked straight toward him with a mockingly innocent and all too trusting smile that he'd suddenly wanted to see draped beguilingly around some impressive wood.

_His_; to be exact.

And, in that fleeting instant, he'd been well and truly fucked.

Because, back then, Jax had been too busy trying to keep his wayward dick in check to realize that his best friend had been apologizing to Tara for not letting her know beforehand that they'd be riding their new Harley's to school on that first day of Junior year instead of taking his Dad's old truck like she'd clearly expected based on her attire. It had been a fairly awkward exchange since Opie obviously hadn't anticipated that their long time tagalong would suddenly show up wearing something so decidedly impractical and girly after years of loose jeans and even baggier shirts. How could he?

Jax sure as hell hadn't.

And, before he'd known what was happening, Tara had already dipped down before him. Her upper body swooping low in a limber, sleek motion that left certain portions of her completely exposed to his astonished gaze as her nimble fingers were busy popping the bottom few buttons out of the seam that ran straight up the entire length of her outfit. Unfortunately, the inoffensive plastic closures weren't the only perfectly rounded things slipping out of where they rightfully belonged. Somehow, Jax had barely figured out that the brunette's unknowingly seductive action wasn't an amateur strip tease of some sort meant for his lascivious ogling. Instead, it was supposed to make it easier for Tara to slide onto the back of his bike but, really, the only thing that he was certain of by then was a man's ever hardening knowledge that Tara Knowles didn't wear nearly enough foundational garments under that fucking dress for his piece of mind or body.

_Damn_, he didn't know how the hell the focused point guard of their varsity basketball team had shuffled off as a dedicated tomboy at the beginning of the summer and come back an alluring young woman in full possession of her feminine arsenal. It was a conundrum that Jax's teenaged hormones simply wouldn't allow his remedial classed brain to compute. Knowles had been hard enough to resist as the unadorned girl who was always around but hadn't ever been around. She'd been like one of the guys; always up for a game of catch, a few hoops, or the random fight or two. Beyond that, Tara was a smart confidante; kept her eyes open, her mouth and legs shut, and she'd never been one of those silly gigglers that annoyed him far too much after he'd cum.

Together; they'd been uncomplicated, simple, perfectly in tune but that had all turned to shit with his rejection.

She was still buttoned up verbally, her lips still sealed as tight as her thighs, at least, Jax hoped that was still the case because he just couldn't bear to think otherwise but things were decidedly complicated between them these days. The difficult and tense silences between them were grueling at best and, yet, she was near impossible to keep away from. He was a salivating moth to her luscious flame.

None of the changes in their dynamic made the lust filled purgatory of his existence any better now because Tara either ignored him or simply watched him with the quiet, almost predatory gaze that had become their norm since her return. Her eyes would slowly track over him, calmly stare at him for a moment as if she was merely waiting, biding her time by mutely humoring him with her reserve somehow, and, then, she'd casually dismiss him by refusing to acknowledge him directly again until Jax forced the issue.

And, damn it, he always did. He _had_ to. Naturally, he couldn't abide it when she spoke around him like he wasn't even fucking there just like she'd been doing tonight.

Ignoring another worthless exchange in her litany of mundane comments to Donna, not caring that he'd practically forgotten that his best friend's girl was even there as Op rigged up the last of Tara's devious alterations, he sourly demanded, "So, Knowles, why are you suddenly after Charming's V.P.?"

It was a legitimate question.

Tara wasn't usually one to orchestrate pranks and wheedling Opie until his best friend pieced together her vandals idea wasn't something she'd ever really done before. And, this wasn't just some fledgling bag of flaming crap that she wanted put together either. Oh, no, this thing had a timer and was set to explode so that the not so upstanding Mr. Rogers would look as shitty on the outside as Jax knew the school official was on the inside in front of the entire homecoming assembly.

Still, the more ornate nature of her trick didn't explain Tara's sudden change of heart toward the administrator; it only made it more curious.

She'd been cordial and all too respectful toward the man when the Vice Principal had subbed in their study hall a few weeks back when Mrs. Christy's son had had a medical emergency. Jax remembered every little nuance of their exchange because Tara had been wearing the red bain of his existence again and he wasn't going to let her out of his sight a second longer than absolutely necessary with all the heads she'd been turning lately. He'd stuck with her like a menacing shadow too until Rogers had pulled Tara into the hallway to talk some Student Council Secretary drudgery. He didn't get why Tara bothered with it but she'd mumbled that she needed it for her college applications or some such shit. It all sounded like a huge pain in the ass to him especially when Rogers had mentioned that he'd like to see her in his office after last period that day before taking special notice of her dress but, hey, Jax wasn't following that college prep track anyways. His future had been set long before he'd even been born and the only extracurriculars he normally indulged in happened between a willing girl's thighs but Jax hadn't liked the idea of Tara being alone with the officious prick so he'd parked himself by her side during the informal meeting explaining his presence away with the excuse of being her ride home.

He'd thought it was a good move then based on Tara's inexplicable relief but, now, Jax wondered what exactly he'd missed because the clever brunette wasn't one to seek or plot revenge often but her plan was rank with the underlying scent of both emotions.

He didn't like that either. At all.

After a minute Tara sent him a lingering sidelong look that made him feel like he was being visually hunted by her catlike glance before she finally replied, "You ever notice how Mr. Rogers makes some of the girls take detention in his office?"

"Yeah," he quickly returned wanting her to continue explaining what Tara felt justified her destructive actions. She hadn't had a detention since middle school because he or Op always took full responsibility for any of their shenanigans.

"With the door shut," she pointedly added in a flint like tone.

"Shit," he automatically exclaimed after Tara's question sparked a lingering confirmation of something Jax had suspected when Stoney's girl had been given an in-school suspension in the officials' office instead of the usual three day riff at home.

Damn it.

He'd known that authoritative fucker was somehow the reason Tara had stopped wearing the red sundress that had become his favorite outfit in the whole God damn world even if he was tortured by it every second that it swirled around her supple frame. At the time, his instincts had screamed that something wasn't right between Tara and Mr. Rogers when she'd seemed uncomfortable about the administrators compliment but Jax hadn't pursued it until now because he'd been too distracted by the needy tug of war between them.

He wasn't going to be sidetracked this time as he nearly bristled, "He try anything with you."

"And, if he did," the brunette rejoined defensively after slowly cutting her gaze towards him again.

"I'll fucking kill him," Jax immediately promised with dark reckoning. "Nobody messes with my girl."

There was a terse moment of pensive silence clinging to the teenaged group before Tara levelly challenged back without answering him definitively, "Didn't think I was your type, Jackson."

Fuck.

They were back to _this_. She'd taken to calling him that ever since her return. He'd assumed that it was supposed to be a newly devised boundary of some sort between them, maybe even a subtle punishment, as it was a more formal manner of addressing him than her previous norm. Yet, the smirking tone made it seem altogether more intimate, almost affectionate, and it drove him fucking insane.

"Somehow," he growled, "you seem to be my only type."

"That's not what you said before," Tara narrowed her piercing eyes at him over the mouth of her beer bottle making them both remember the less than flattering refusal he'd given his longtime friend before she left for the summer.

"It's what I'm saying now, Babe," he lowly promised with remorse making his voice even huskier.

Jax wasn't a total fucking idiot; he knew the reason he'd really shut Tara down was because he hadn't been ready to settle into a serious relationship just then and Tara Knowles wasn't the type of girl that you'd get away with stepping out on. If she didn't kick your ass for it; he or Opie sure as shit would have for her but that hadn't been what he'd told her.

No, he'd been frustrated at having to turn her away and had inadvertently hurt her by telling Tara that he didn't want her that way. Naively, Tara had assumed that she wasn't his type because the ball player wasn't feminine, curvy, or experienced enough to satisfy a guy like him but that had never been the truth. He thought they'd both known that until Tara gave a self-deprecating laugh and sarcastically denied, "Don't start lying to me now, Jax."

"Who's lying," Jax bluntly replied. "You hear about me with anyone while you were gone? Since you've been back?"

"No, but-"

"That's because you're the only face I want to see when I wake up in the morning," Jax shamelessly admitted. "And, no matter how you spin it in that big brain of yours, you're my girl. Always have been," he added with a smirk just to rankle her a little about his certain claim.

Something deep, fathomless, and unshakable flickered to life again in Tara's vulnerable gaze telling Jax all he really needed to know before Opie's grizzly chuckle interrupted the silent consummation of his and Tara's new status by chiding, "It's about damn time, shithead."

"Hey, fuck you," Jax immediately directed at the back of his best friend's broad shoulders in response to the vernal jab. "You're mushy and shit with Donna all the time."

"So, everybody already knows I fuck her," his auburn haired buddy contradicted with smart assed mirth. "And that's exactly what you've wanted to do with Tara ever since she boxed you out freshman year and then beat you in a rather handsy game of one on one."

"Hey, pal," Jax instantly argued slightly offended by Opie's all too astute insinuation of what he'd really wanted ever since they'd started high school, "I've never been handsy with Tara."

"I wasn't talking about you, brother," Opie grinned over his shoulder knowingly at the ruffled brunette who'd just caught on to what was being said about her. "She never manned up on Kozik's or my jock that way."

"You knew," Tara dismally yelped with embarrassed coloring quickly tingeing her cheeks pink.

Suddenly, Jax realized that his girl hadn't been quite as physical in her scrimmages with any of the guys over the years as she'd always been with him which was a damned good thing in his book. He didn't want to even think about Tara rubbing up on another male, pressing the length of her firm young body against his sweaty frame so tightly that they moved as one all in the name of basketball. Maybe Tara really had proved that old adage of the game that the best offense was a really good defense because she'd surely scored his undivided attention with a few signature moves both on and off the court.

With joking candor, Opie acknowledged, "Yeah, I've always known that there was something obnoxious about you two."

"Douche bag," Jax quipped back with a faintly amused laugh before his heated gaze settled back on his favored brunette.

"No," Opie shook his head as his best friend gravelly stated, "that would be the geriatric asswipe that tried to fuck with Tara."

"Hey, Babe," he focused on his girl once again, pleasantly resolved to how fucking perfect that mental thought fit even though the teasing humor from earlier was gone now, "tell us what that bastard did."

"Jax," she quietly started looking around nervously at everyone including Donna before she continued, "it was nothing."

"Really," he doubtfully questioned her flimsy denial. "That asshole has had you planning a criminal offense and has kept you from wearing my dress for two weeks now. That ain't nothing."

"Spill it, Tara," Opie impatiently but in as his arms crossed with finality over his chest. "We're not going to let this go."

"Fine," she eventually leveled them both with a withering glance. "He hinted that if I was nice to him that he'd be extra nice to me when it came time to submit college recommendations for scholarships and shit next year."

"That fucker," he growled along with his best friend. "He's a deadman."

"Jax," Tara pled using his nickname with a sweet intimacy that he'd missed far too much over the last few months, "I only wanted to embarrass him. Make the school-board take a closer look at him not physically hurt him."

"Don't worry, I won't kill him," he finally pulled Tara flush against him like he'd wanted to do all night long. Her slender palms finding a natural home as they glided over the new leather adorning his chest like the man and the cut had been personally constructed just for her. The fiery ache of desire for her that had consumed his body for months now only burned stronger as his lips slipped down to whisper over hers for the first time, "but nothing says true love like a little felony assault."


End file.
